


says the heart

by thchateaus



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Good Relationship, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Gore, Hand Jobs, I'm sorry class, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Romance, Smut, Too Much Blood, Upside Down Shenanigans, Vampire Billy Hargrove, basically boys being horny, opposite of slow burn, plenty of that, steve's kinda into it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-12-31 21:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21152219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thchateaus/pseuds/thchateaus
Summary: There's something totally weird about the new guy.He stares back at Steve, thumb at his bottom lip and book bent in hand. Steve flushes, gets a grin that’s all sharp edges thrown his way. He dips his head as they walk past, ignoring the hairs at his nape standing, doesn’t have to check to know he’s being watched.It doesn’t hit him, not until later, that the guy hadn’t had a single thing to eat.(title is taken from richard siken's 'the language of the birds.')





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god hello first of all... i do NOT often write smut. i am sorry in advance.
> 
> secondly, this fic only exists because i mentioned to a friend about wanting to write a SHORT fic for halloween and so now this monster of a fic exists. it's writing itself at this point? vampire billy hot, its not my fault.
> 
> oh fyi there's a lil scene of them making out with steve's blood in their mouths but i DID warn you, so.
> 
> also i don't own these characters. obviously.

There’s something weird about the new kid.

He hears about him before he sees him. Girls giggling about him in the hallway between periods, guys whispering about how he’s gonna sweep that crown right off of Steve’s head. Not that it was his to begin with. He’d enjoyed it, for a time, back when Tommy hung off of every word he said and monsters weren’t real. Now? He couldn’t care less.

So he hears about the guy. About his mullet and the double denim and the pale glint of his skin despite apparently being from California. That he drives a squeaky clean Camaro that he’s sure he heard rolling in after him this morning and has a little sister who looks nothing like him. 

And he doesn’t see him, not until lunch.

He’s sat at a table with Tommy and his goons, eating up their praise. There’s a cross dangling from the ear he tucks mussed curls behind. A pendant between his pecs, golden and shining, catches in the sunlight. He doesn’t look too interested though, sat at the center of the table in silence and yet commanding attention,still. He acknowledges Tommy with an eyebrow raise that Steve would never notice if he wasn't watching so intently. He gives Tommy the very minimum amount of acknowledgment and still keeps his undivided attention. Treats him like Tommy's nothing more than a lackey.

Just like Steve used to.

And the thing about Tommy is that he’s great at sucking up and acting like he means it. That’s how they were friends for so long. That’s how they worked. Steve was an asshole and Carol was worse and Tommy did whatever the fuck Steve said. Clung to his every word. And history repeats itself.

He looks back to them and sees the guy and Tommy looking right back his way. The guy has this look on his face, like he's woken from a dream. Meets Steve's gaze with unequivacol attention. Awesome.

He’s in line for lunch, reaching for a cheeseburger because it’s the only food that _doesn’t_ taste like shit when Tommy hip checks him. Sends his tray flying and cackles as orange juice drips down his sweater and through to his skin.

He pushes the guy back and watches him stumble into Carol. She laughs too, blows her gum in his face and he’s fucking done. And hungry.

“What the fuck, Tommy?”

“You were in my way,” Tommy shrugs, grinning that dopey fucking smile that makes his face all pinched and smug.

“Fuck off with your shit today, man, seriously,” Steve feels the anger rise in his throat, hot and thick.

Then Robin’s there and Tommy’s clutching at his crotch in pain while she thieves the burgers from his tray. Nobody gives a second glance.

“Can’t avoid trouble for one second, can you?” She says in his ear. He lets out a breath that could try to be a laugh.

“Pretty sure it follows me,” He smiles, looking back to find the new guy sitting alone.

He stares back at Steve, thumb at his bottom lip and book bent in hand. Steve flushes, gets a grin that’s all sharp edges thrown his way. He dips his head as they walk past, ignoring the hairs at his nape that stand to attention. He doesn’t have to check to know he’s being watched.

Steve’s also never been good at resisting, he can’t fucking help himself. Looks back over his shoulder and finds him staring. He's not sure why he smiles back at the guy. He's definitely not expecting a smile back. A real one, one that he’d even argue was shy.

Steve feels his smile grow wider and the guy bites into his lip and he’s practically running out of the doors to catch up with Robin.

It doesn’t hit him, not until later, that the guy hadn’t had a single thing on his tray.

* * *

He sees him again at the end of school, smoking with his arm resting back against the Camaro. 

He lacks a jacket while Steve clings to the fur lining his, shirt unbuttoned to the naval like it's not mid-October. Maybe it's him hanging onto the memory of the warmth of California or some shit.

“Tommy doesn’t like you,” He says, watching Steve shuffle by, blows smoke in his direction.

“Tommy doesn’t know how to think on his own,” Steve mutters, reaching into his pocket for his keys. They’re fucking cold and he hisses, pulls them out as they burn.

The guy clicks his tongue against his teeth, gives a little laugh. “Guy’s like a leech.”

“Yeah,” Steve says as he jams the key into the door, not sure where this is going, really wanting to get into the beemer and dial up the heat. It won’t turn, he’s shivering and he has to pick Dustin up in half an hour. He huffs, knows the guy is watching and that makes it worse.

He drums his fingers against the roof of the Camaro before stepping forward, crowding into Steve’s space. Curls his hand over Steve’s and pulls it from the key with ease. 

“Here,” He says, turning it. The door clicks open and he looks back to the guy grinning down at him. “I’m sorry he was a dick to you earlier, pretty boy.”

“Steve,” He mumbles, face hot. “It’s Steve.”

“Okay,” The guy hums, “See you around, Steve.”

* * *

He learns the new guy’s name is Billy.

He learns this because Billy is sliding into the desk next to him the following morning for English before Steve can even get Frankenstein out of his bag. He’s angling his whole body toward him and resting his elbow on the desk. Drumming at his thigh wrapped in skinny, skinny jeans and resting his chin on his palm.

“I’m Billy,” He says by way of introduction, sticking his hand out in between their desks like it's the nineteenth fucking century. “Billy Hargrove.”

Steve shakes it anyway, because he’s nice like that now, and gets warm fingers curled around his own that made him shiver. He kind of loses himself in it, fingers twitching to follow the warmth when he retracts.

“Steve, which you know. Steve Harrington, which, I’m sure Tommy has fucking told you already,” He says around a yawn, regretting forgoing coffee this morning to get Dustin to school early for reasons Dustin didn’t care to share. He suspected his dumb fucking AV club.

“He did,” Billy’s smile grows easy, pretty where he directs it at Steve. All for Steve. He hasn’t even got his book open. “Told me a lot of other stuff, too. Not that I care. I’d rather hear it all from you.”

Steve flushes, knows his cheeks are all blotchy and it's fucking embarrassing. It's been a while, since Nancy, he tells himself. So he ignores it and meets Billy’s gaze. “Yeah? What’d he tell you?”

“A load of bullshit, I could tell. He’s a bad liar. But he did tell me you’re the basketball captain. Tryouts are this afternoon, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, I guess so, I mean they voted for me to be,” He shrugs, rubs at the back of his neck. “And yeah. You like it? Basketball?”

“I enjoy sport, getting what I want.” He says like that answers his question. “Will I be seeing you there?”

“Probably. Coach’s gonna drag me there to observe everyone. Like my opinion matters.”

“It will to me,” Billy frowns like he’s genuinely saddened by what Steve said. “I’m sure you’re captain for a reason. Word is that you’re pretty damn good.”

“So he’ll talk shit about me but praise my basketball skills?” Steve snorts. Doodles mindlessly in the corner of the page. 

“Broken clocks are right twice a day,” Billy’s tongue pokes out, drags across his bottom lip as he grins. He looks down to Steve’s page, the couple lines of notes surrounded by shitty little drawings. “You not a fan of English?"

“I am,” Steve hums, turning back to Billy with an easy chuckle. “I just get distracted easily.”

Billy grins, “That so?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ll leave you alone, then, Steve Harrington.”

Steve bites at his cheek, feels them flush full of blood, a little awed by the guy and the weird-ass way he speaks, the way he hangs off of Steve’s every word. It's dizzying. “I didn’t say that I minded.”

Billy sits back in his seat, looking to the door a good ten seconds before the teacher came back in the room.

* * *

Steve stares down at the party pamphlet laid out on the grass in front of him. It's for Halloween, an ugly green and covered in block lettering.

“Come and get sheet-faced?”

“So original,” Jonathan snorts beside him, pulling his jacket impossibly tighter over his frame. 

It's cold, even for the end of fall, like Hawkins had thrown itself headfirst into dark nights and misery without any kind of transition the second October began. The sun beats down on them, weak, barely warming his skin.

Robin narrows her eyes, “Why’d you even accept it if you’re not gonna go?”

“I didn’t want to upset Cindy, she’s, like, the only junior I don’t mind,” Steve shrugged, “Besides, I couldn’t exactly tell her I couldn’t go because her house is too far outta town and I’m terrified evil tunnels might swallow me up.”

“Steve,” Nancy says in that sad, quiet way that still gets to him. Even now. Makes him feel small and makes his chest ache with the way that he misses her, sometimes.

“It’s fine,” He grinds out, molars pressed together. “You guys can go, I don’t give a shit. I just don’t want to.”

“Well I’m not going, I gotta look after Will,” Jonathan murmurs, and Steve figures that that’s his extension of solidarity. His way of making Steve feel like less of a freak. “Mom’s gotta work and she doesn’t really want him home alone, so.”

“‘Course,” Steve picks at the grass below, squeezes at a blade until it splits between his thumb and his finger, “Uh, I kind of should be studying anyway? I have an English test comin’ up soon and I really need to get better ‘cause I _ actually _want to graduate and get out of this dump.”

“Don’t we all?” Robin talks around her sandwich, chicken and mayo, as always, “I gotta stay for band practice tonight. I leave at, like, five? So you can take me home before the party.”

“Great.”

“Who’s taking who home?”

Billy’s there when he tilts his head backwards, smiling down at him all golden and squinting in the sun. 

“Hey,” Steve smiles, “Come sit.”

Robin stares as Billy perches himself between them. “Steve is staying back to study after basketball, aren’t you, Steve?”

His gaze flits from glaring at Robin to meeting Billy’s eyes already on him. “Uh, yeah. I’m not doing too hot in English right now.”

“Huh, funny. Maybe if you paid attention in class that wouldn’t be an issue,” Billy bites into a smile, “I can help you.”

“You? The whole reason I wasn’t able to? You’re gonna help me?” Steve raises a brow, lips twitching.

“Well, I don’t recall you having a problem,” Billy knocks his knee with his own, eyes bright. “I really can help, if you’d like? I know the book pretty well.”

“That’s awful handy of you,” Nancy’s lips are pursed as she watches him.

“Yeah,” Billy says, barely sparing her a glance. Steve chances a look away from Billy, at the way she and Jonathan watch a little dumbfounded. “It's a good book. I’d be happy to help you understand it a little better, Steve.”

“That’s nice of you, man. I really do need the help so it’d be great. You don’t have anywhere to be?”

”Not really, I’d rather stay and help you anyway, though.” He leans in closer, enough for Steve to flush down to his collar.

“Okay, that’s, uh, thanks,” Steve breathes out nervous laughter by proxy, looks down to his hands just sat in his lap.

“It’s a pretty easy thing to read once you know how to see between the lines, I promise,” Billy says, smiles like there’s further meaning Steve should apply but can’t quite get.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Steve meets his eyes and watches Billy’s darken just a little when they dip to his mouth so casually.

Then Billy’s taking Steve’s hand, pulling out a marker and writing on his wrist. Billy’s breath is warm when he moves to murmur in his ear and Steve’s heart is about to beat out of his fucking ribs. “My number. For studying, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Steve repeats, a little slow, catching Billy’s wrist when he pulls back. Billy raises a brow, intrigued. “I’ll see you at tryouts?”

Billy licks his lips and looks delighted when he catches Steve watching. There’s something like goosebumps dancing along Steve’s skin while his veins sing with hot, syrupy want.

Robin clears her throat.

Billy stands, regarding everyone else with a glance and looks back to Steve with a grin. “You will, pretty boy.”

Then he’s gone and everyone’s turning to him and Steve is lowering his head into his hands, face burning. 

“Fuck.”

“What the fuck was that?” Robin airs, voice light like she’s amused.

“I don’t-”

“Don’t finish that with another self-deprecating comment or I’m gonna fucking punch you, dingus,” She presses closer, talking a little quieter while Nancy and Jonathan pretend they can’t hear. “He gave you his number.”

“He’s just- he’s new, alright? He’s probably just latching onto the first friendly face he saw. And he saw the whole Tommy thing go down yesterday.”

“I don’t think feeling unwelcome is an issue for him,” Robin pokes. “Tammy was ogling him all of Math. Just like everyone else.”

Steve shrugs. It's not like he doesn’t see the way Billy looks at him, he’s not blind, but he doesn’t get it. There’s Tommy practically hanging off of every word Billy says, gagging to rip that crown from Steve’s head and hand it to Billy. 

But he doesn’t give the guy a second glance. Not even now as he watches as Billy makes his way to one of the tables in the shade with Tommy and Carol either side of him. Tommy’s gesturing widely, stupid fucking face stretched in a grin while Carol blows gum in their faces and Billy’s playing with the pendant around his neck.

“The way that he looked at you, it was like...man,” Jonathan broke off in a chuckle, “It's like he wanted to fucking eat you or something.” 

“Fuck off,” Steve flushed, throwing his water bottle his way.

Jonathan holds his hands up, “Am I wrong? Guys?”

“He does seem intense,” Nancy’s mouth curls in a grin, “But you didn’t seem to mind so much, Steve.”

“Jesus- I mean, he’s fucking hot, obviously, but I just. I don’t know.”

Robin kicks at his calf, “God forbid you take a chance on something and try and have fun, be happy, right?”

Steve wants to point out that he had that, once, the words on the end of his tongue. Bullshit, it's bullshit, you’re bullshit.

“Well, I’ll see him at tryouts, and the library, I guess,” He settles on eventually. Robin nods, satisfied, and goes back to the magazine she and Jonathan are sharing.

When he looks up, Billy is gone.

* * *

It doesn’t shock Steve at all that Billy’s kind of a beast on the court.

He’s an animal, an entirely different being. He hits every shot he tries without difficulty, stalks the gym like he owns the place. Coach is eyeing him up the entire time, only blowing the whistle once when Billy knocks Jimmy Henson to the floor and has him doubled over on the bench wheezing.

Coach once benched Steve for calling Tommy an asshole.

Then they’re playing shirts versus skins and Steve’s on the court as captain of shirts with Billy skins, because of course.

His team gets him the ball quick, loyal even against strong new blood, and he’s halfway down the court when Billy’s against him. Pushing forward and Steve’s pushing back, guarding the ball with his body as Billy breathes down the back of his neck.

“Hi,” He chuckles, voice deep in Steve’s ear and, like, it's been a long day. It makes Steve shiver, tilting his head back enough to meet eyes that he swears are red. He squints in fluorescent lights and wonders if he’s lost his fucking mind when Billy hip checks him and knocks him to the floor.

Billy races down the court, gets the ball in the net and whoops. Tommy’s there cheering him on with Harris and McKinley and he eats it up. Grins, smacks Tommy on the back and makes him cough.

Then he’s racing back to Steve and lowering a hand to help him up. Steve grips it, feels that same warmth surge through him again and follows it. Curls his fingers around Billy’s wrist.

“Sorry,” Billy grins in Steve's face, his own shiny with sweat. “I get you hot and bothered, pretty boy?”

“You wish,” Steve stands and knocks their shoulders together. “Just really excited to beat you.”

Billy runs his tongue along his teeth, blue eyes bright. Like he’s delighted. “We’ll see, King Steve.”

Billy’s team wins. By five points. Coach offers him a spot on the team right there.

They’re in the locker room and it’s only them and a handful of guys left when Steve finally feels comfortable enough to shower the grime off of his skin. There’s a scar he can’t really explain at his hip where a Demogorgon had taken a big, old bite last summer before Nancy had blown it to pieces and he doesn’t want any of the guys questioning.

“That was fun,” Billy’s rubbing apple shampoo into his hair but his attention is all on Steve. Eyes trailing Steve’s body with no fucking shame and making him go red.

“You’re really good,” Steve says, angling the scar away from view, “You weren’t lying about liking this shit, huh?”

“Nope,” Billy smiles, flexing his arms in front of him and it's so annoying but his dick gives a twitch anyway because he’s that easy.

“Are you, uh, you aiming for captain then?”

Billy tilts his head back, water falling on his face. It's the hottest setting, Steve realises, steam hissing between them. “Oh, no, that’s all you. And they respect you too much. I will enjoy keeping you on your toes, though.”

“That so?”

“Yeah,” Billy opens his eyes and they’re dipping to Steve’s mouth again. “You’re different. You don’t just suck up to me, you actually like me, you challenge me. I like it.”

“I like you?” Steve bites at a grin, “Says who?”

Billy doesn’t miss a beat, “Says the way your heart jumps every time I look at you, baby.” 

Steve inhales, turning to watch Harris and McKinley leave and hears Billy shift beside him.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” He says after a moment, letting the water cascade through his hair and into his eyes so he doesn’t have to look. Because he’s a coward. He’s bullshit.

“I don’t want anything,” Billy frowns, crowding closer. Close enough to touch, if he wanted, close enough for Steve to push him away. He’s giving him an out, Steve thought. “I just want your company, Steve. I’m not toying with you.”

Steve meets his gaze, “What if I’m not interested?”

Billy traces his hip, the indents there that still sheen red. “Then I’ll leave you alone. Tell me and I won’t look your way again. If that’s what you really want.”

Steve’s eyes flutter as Billy’s hand caresses the muscle there, gentle and so, so warm. 

“I’m not saying no,” He murmurs, bringing his hand up to push Billy’s hair out of his face. Billy leans into the touch, watching him with wide eyes. All of his previous bravado gone, leaving Billy stripped bare. “It's just-”

Billy blinks, a little owlish, and his irises flood with red. Steve knows, this time, it's not a trick of the light. It's real, it's true, and Billy’s letting him see. 

It should freak him out, probably, he should be running. He stays right there. Steve’s veins thrum. Billy inhales like he’s in physical pain where he nods tight, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be,” Steve says, “There’s just a lot about me you don’t know. Yet. We met yesterday.”

Billy hums, eyes tracking his face. They settle on Steve’s own, a little wild. Synonymous with the rest of him and fuck, Steve wants him.

“Well, you’ll get to know me.”

“That a promise?”

I just-” Billy runs a tongue over his lips, “Want. Want you. That’s all there is to it.”

“Okay,” Steve’s throat works and Billy’s eyes fall to it, teeth biting into his lip. “Okay."

Then Billy’s pressing him into the tile before he can finish speaking, leaning down and kissing him.

Steve meets him with a little keen noise and Billy’s hand is hovering over his throat. Like Billy’s not sure what to do with him. Not sure whether to destroy or to embrace. He captures Steve’s lips like he’s famished, takes the flesh between his teeth and sucks. Steve’s gasping, putting as much into it as Billy is and feels him shiver.

Billy’s tongue presses at the seam of his lips and he opens up so easy, runs his own along Billy’s. Billy growls, nails breaking the skin of Steve’s shoulder.

“Shit, sorry,” Billy whines, smoothing his thumb over the piercing. His eyes are wild, a little frenzied, and Steve is pulling him back into another kiss.

He licks into Billy’s mouth without abandon, body shuddering when Billy’s hips jolt forward. He feels dizzy, like every nerve in his body is working overtime when Billy sucks at his tongue like a starved animal. He kisses Steve like he wants to devour him and he’s just able to hold back. Like a predator toying with his prey.

Steve wants to press. Wants to make him snap. He wants him to take, to cover Steve and devour him whole.

“A date,” He gasps against the corner of Billy’s mouth. “Yeah, take me on a date.”

“A-” Billy laughs, quiet as he pants, “A date?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, smiles. Nips at his lip. “That a problem?”

“Greedy,” Billy teases, lowers his mouth to Steve’s throat. Kisses along it, teeth scraping over the skin. He’s hard against Steve’s thigh, he can feel it clear as day, and Steve tilts his head back with a moan.

He’s whining when Billy starts sucking a mark into the skin. His teeth scrape, just a little, and then there’s this sharp prick at his throat. Billy’s mewling against his skin and Steve can’t fucking think. He swallows and the pressure increases, gets him whining, tugging at Billy’s hair.

One minute, Billy’s there and the next he’s pulling back. Backing up into the shower stall. His lips are red, smeared bright with Steve’s blood.

Steve swallows, steps closer even as Billy’s nostrils flare. He runs his thumb along his lip and dips it in his mouth. Billy’s lashes flutter and he grips Steve’s wrist, sucks at the digit like he’s famished.

“What are you?” Steve asks, head swimming, a little transfixed as Billy works his tongue over the pad of his thumb.

Billy pulls back, eyes a little wide. He’s looking at Steve but he’s not seeing. “I don’t- I shouldn’t have done that. Steve, I’m so sorry.”

Steve curves his hand on his jaw, directs Billy’s hand to his hip. “I got bit by a monster, right here before Nancy killed it. It never healed right, still aches all the fucking time. There are worse things out there than whatever you are. You don’t scare me, you hear me? You don’t.”

Billy nods, palms Steve’s cheek. It's hot, almost too hot, Steve leans into it anyway.

“Is it like- you’re-”

“A date,” Billy exhales a shaky laugh, “We go on that date of yours, and maybe I’ll think about telling you."

Steve clears his throat, runs his hand through his hair. Tries not to think about wanting Billy in his mouth. “Cindy’s party should be in like an hour.”

Billy snorts a laugh, leaning into trail kisses along his jaw. “You’re infuriating.”

“You have no idea, I- oh, _ shit _. I said I’d drop Robin off home before the party. It’s gotta be, what, way past four now? Fuck, she’s literally gonna actually kill me.”

Billy steps back, “Oh. That’s fine, then.”

Steve stares, growing cold now that the water is lukewarm at best. Reaches out to grapple for his towel and settles it around his waist. “You don’t want to come with me?”

Billy falters, mouth open. “I just- your friends don’t seem to like me.”

“They don’t know you well enough, just like I don’t. Not yet.” Steve shakes his head, “They’re just wary, y’know. It's okay,”

“Okay,” Billy smiles, catches his wrist. “My number’s gone.”

Steve shrugs, going for nonchalant as if his heart’s not in his throat. “You’ll just have to come with me then.”

The spray of the shower head shuts off and Steve feels a thrill at the footsteps following behind him.

* * *

Robin, to her credit, does little more than stare Billy’s way a couple of times when they get to the parking lot a few minutes later. She stares at Steve’s hand over his throat, too, something like delight dancing on her face.

“You’re late,” She squints, shoving her clarinet in the trunk. Right next to the bat he hasn’t moved in a year. “What happened to your neck?”

He heats, Billy playing unaware next to him as he watches the trees sway or something. Makes out like he hurt it at tryouts and Billy’s hiding a smile in his palm. Robin doesn’t buy it for a second.

It doesn’t take long to get to the party, not really, and when they arrive it's already in full swing. Steve trips on a beer can soon as he’s parked up and Robin’s snorting, Billy’s even fighting a grin himself.

“Shut up,” He knocks at Robin’s side and gets a cackle in response, Robin knocking him right back.

“What made you decide to come to this shithole anyway?” The three of them watch as someone stumbles out of the door and into the bushes to throw up. Billy’s nose wrinkles. “Thought you were planning on becoming a model student? You get one page in and realise you actually have to read it?”

“Changed my mind,” Steve says, turns to Billy, “You're not gonna go find Tommy?”

“Nah,” Billy doesn’t miss a beat, draping an arm over his shoulder and fills Steve with warmth in spite of the bite of the cold air, “I want to dance with you. That a problem?”

“Good luck with that,” Robin says, eyes flitting between the two of them before she settles Billy with a grin. “He’s the worst. Like, fucking awful.”

He feels Billy laugh, “We all have our flaws.”

Steve glares as he pushes the door open, instantly hit by the stench of sweat and booze, the heat of all those bodies combined as one.

“I’m not that bad.”

“He says, completely bullshitting,” Robin sticks her tongue out, “I’m gonna go get a drink. You guys want anything?”

“Anything good,” Steve says, same time as Billy asks all quiet for beer. Like he’s shy. 

Steve watches Robin disappear from the crowd and turns back to him, “Are you nervous?”

Billy falters, brows twitching. “No.”

“Liar,” Steve grins, grabs a hold of a mostly full bottle of Smirnoff on the counter and takes a swig. “When was your last party?”

Billy watches him, and Steve realises he does that a lot. He dips his head and his earring shines in the light. “I don’t remember.”

“Well,” Steve takes another mouthful, the burn igniting whatever lay stagnant inside. He takes Billy’s hand. “Hawkins parties are a special kind of horse shit so don’t expect anything. The only good thing about them is the booze.”

“Sounds delightful,” Billy muses, bringing Steve’s hand to his waist. “Aren’t we meant to be dancing?”

“Mm,” Steve hums, tugging him closer. “Come here, then.”

So they dance. Or, rather, Billy does while Steve tries, bottle in hand.

And he fucking sucks.

Billy doesn’t seem to mind so much, giggling in his ear and replicating whatever moves Steve does except he looks fucking gorgeous doing it. He’s throwing his head back, hands massaging at Steve’s hips while shouting the lyrics above everyone else. He’s mesmerising, black leather thrown over a bare torso, a torso Steve wants to get his mouth on. Commands attention Steve is all too willing to give.

His lashes flutter when Steve brings his hands to his abdomen and traces over fluttering muscles that glean. Then Billy’s pushing into it, moving in time to what Steve thinks is Duran Duran. Couldn’t give a shit, really, not when Billy’s watching him like this. Like he wants to eat him whole.

There’s a solo cup full to the brim of something sharp shoved in his face and Robin whispering that she’s going upstairs while Cindy giggles into her shoulder and the song fades into some rock song that makes Billy’s eyes light up.

The drink burns when he downs most of it. He wipes at his mouth and pulls Billy closer, impossibly so, and Billy lets him. His hair is falling in his face, curls starting to stick to his face. They’re almost brown, Steve thinks, and they make him look a little more ordinary. Like he belongs to this town. Like there’s not some undercurrent power just below the surface.

He doesn’t like that.

He reaches up, tangles his finger in a curl and frowns, “They’re not blonde anymore.”

Billy’s eyes travel his face and he settles on a grin, all teeth. “Tends to happen at night, y’know. I don’t know if you’ve ever paid attention to anything in school, but-”

“Shut up,” Steve pinches his side, snorts, takes another mouthful from the solo cup. Welcomes the burn of his throat and presses flush against Billy. “I just meant the blonde is pretty.”

“Thank you,” Billy’s grin is one of delight as he’s cupping Steve’s jaw, tilting his head back. He complies, of course he does, chest on fire. Then there are teeth grazing his jaw, just the right side of piercing, and he grunts.

“Hey,” Billy licks up his jaw, which. “You realise this doesn’t count as a date?”

Steve’s hands tremble where he holds the cup, fallen victim to the crush of his fingers. And he feels a little brave, a little on top of the world, when he murmurs, “Why the fuck are you here then?”

Billy’s pupils are blown where he pulls back, just enough. “‘Cause you’re gorgeous, baby, and you asked me to.”

Steve looks around the living area, made up of stragglers, people who’ve overstayed their welcome. He thinks he spots Tommy and Carol necking by the staircase, Mckinley’s passed out over the coffee table. Nobody is paying them attention.

“Okay,” He takes Billy’s drink from the table behind them, brings the rim to his lips and tips his head back. A little escapes, slides down his chin and his throat and he’s laughing. Giggling against Billy’s jaw. And Billy’s taking the cup, downing the rest before his tongue is capturing the droplet, making a path up his throat to the corner of his mouth.

He slides a hand to the base of Steve’s skull, slotting their lips together. He takes and takes and has Steve panting in like a minute. Which is pathetic but he’s horny and tipsy and Billy’s perfect. There’s some sharp prick at his bottom lip and copper filling his mouth and Billy’s making these noises when he licks into it. Steve palms Billy’s abdomen and he’s convinced he’s about to blow his load in his pants right here at Cindy fucking Jones’ house. 

Billy’s tongue is tangy and sharp and Steve should care when he sucks at it, he should. He doesn’t give a single shit, not when this makes him feel so good. He’s done being careful, done with Hawkins and it's fucking tunnels and it's sham residents.

He grips Billy’s jacket in fists, kisses back and lets himself sway into it. Billy’s carding his hand through his hair, so sweet, while he chases every moan he can pull out of Steve. 

“Sweetheart,” Billy slurs, knocking their noses together, “You’re driving me insane. I just- I can hear how wild I get you and I. It’s so much-”

Steve thinks he gets it, kind of, is starting to put two and two together. But his mind’s a little muddled, honestly, and he feels too good to care. Thinks of Billy whispering greedy and thumbs over Billy’s pulse point.

He feels nothing. Presses a kiss there, anyway. Scrapes his teeth over it and Billy’s swallowing, pushing his head back. Letting him.

“Billy,” He’s panting, lightheaded when he reaches back to get another drink. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Billy trembles, moans quiet under the music but it's all Steve focuses on, hook, line and sinker. “Yeah?”

“Mm,” Steve nods, little spots dancing in his vision. He frowns, leans his forehead on Billy’s shoulder. “Sorry. Head’s kinda spinning.”

“It’s okay,” Billy’s voice is a desperate rasp but he pulls back, palms Steve’s cheek. “You feel okay?”

“Uh, kinda came out of nowhere. I probably just- I haven’t eaten since lunch.” He laughs, “Guess I’m more of a lightweight than I thought, shit.”

“Steve,” Billy warns, “You’re- I think I fucked up. And I need to get you home. Alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Steve says, fingers curling in Billy’s shirt. His head’s kinda light if he’s being honest, and he feels good. Airy, like he feels nothing but pleasure at every nerve end. He doesn’t even care that much that Merril’s Pumpkin Patch is just across the road. “Billy, c’mon-”

Billy presses a kiss to his temple, loops an arm around his waist and Steve goes dizzy with it. “I’ve taken- Jesus, fuck. This wasn’t a good idea. Let’s just go find Robin, okay?”

“I’m not a fucking child,” Steve frowns, feels a little like one. Feels small, all of a sudden, and he doesn’t understand.

“I know,” Billy says, stares up at the ceiling, breathes out a laugh. “You feel good, right? A lot more than you should off of, what, a couple drinks? Yeah? And I think its ‘cause of me. And I can’t think around you.”

“Billy,” He’s leaning his forehead on his shoulder, hands still clutching leather in them. “I liked it, y’know, in the showers. Just now. I like you. I don’t care, c’mon. We were just-”

“No, fuck, this was a bad idea,” Billy hisses, backing up and suddenly Steve’s sitting on the couch. Head swimming and lolling back against the cushions. They’re damp, smell strongly of punch. Billy’s carding his hand through his hair but not saying a word.

He’s gone and he’s back with Robin in what he knows is less than a minute but it shouldn’t be possible and he’s so fucked.

“Steve?” Robin’s hand against his forehead is cold. She smells of Cindy’s perfume. Her neck shiny with lip gloss. At least one of them got lucky.

“What happened?” She’s asking Billy, her hand rubbing at his arm making him shiver.

Billy doesn’t look from Steve but he looks worried and Steve just wants to scream. “I think he just drank too much.”

“Hey, shit,” She’s whispering, thumbing his lip and he grumbles, bats at her hand. “You’re bleeding.”

And, see. It's not funny. It's not.

He laughs anyway, cackles up at the ceiling and it's an ugly sound. He can hear it, chokes around the stupid fucking lump in his throat.

“The last party I went to,” He says to Billy, to no one, to the chill of his bones, “the girl I was ready to marry and stay in this dump for ditched me. And then I got beat to a pulp by Tommy two days later and I fought monsters with children. Isn’t that funny?”

“Steve,” Billy whispers, “Please just let us get you home. And I’ll stay, I promise.”

Robin’s face twists in confusion that’s resolved as soon as it's shown. She doesn’t ask, even if she’s eyeing the both of them up, and stands.

“He’s right. Billy, you can drive Steve’s car. I’ll let you know where to go.”

“Okay,” Billy’s so quiet where he pulls Steve up, and _ shit _, maybe he is a little dizzier than he thought. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

Steve pouts, “I don’t want you to be, Jesus fucking-”

“I still am,” Billy thumbs his wrist, pulls him outside alongside Robin. “C’mon.”

He stands, because he’s nothing if not stubborn and refuses to admit there is actually any issue, thank you very much. His head swims anyway, limbs too heavy and throat too thick.

Getting to the car and getting home passes by quickly. Billy won’t stop worrying at his lips and watching him in the rearview mirror while Robin’s stroking through his hair.

He watches the trees as they pass by. Swaying in the moonlight, dancing as one. He sees thick, white flakes fall from their canopies and float in the air and he can’t blink them away. He rubs at his eyes, watches lights dance behind his eyelids and settles back against the seat. Maybe he was just more fucked up after today than he thought.

Billy meets his eye in the side mirror and smiles and Steve smiles right back. It feels a little like sweeping water under a paper-thin bridge.

The driveway is empty when they pull up, garage light blinding.

“Up and at ‘em, lardass,” Robin’s whispering, and Billy’s hands are warm on his frame and he wants to sleep.

He’s out cold by the time they reach his bedroom, Billy at his desk and Robin at the end of his bed.

* * *

Steve wakes up with a chill.

The first thing he notes when he squints an eye open, the rising sun directly in his gaze because obviously, is that his clothes are neatly folded up at the edge of his bed. Next to Billy’s jacket.

Fuck, he’d been such an idiot, whining at him like that when Billy was so clearly fretting. He was always so fucking needy, always had to push too much. And he actually liked the guy.

He wants to fall back into the pull of sleep so badly, the blankets up to his chin lulling him in. But.

He also really needs to shower.

His throat is sticky with punch and sweat. Nasty. 

He touches a hand to it, thumb catching the bite from yesterday. Just the light brush pulls a grunt from him, pleasure thrumming below the surface. He thinks of Billy’s lips there, his breath hot, the little moans he’d been making.

Popping a boner at eight in the morning over a glorified hickey. Jesus. That’s a new low.

He sighs, pushes a hand through his hair, stumbles out of the blankets and to the bathroom. 

He’s still tired, is the thing. He can see the purpling under his eyes while he’s waiting for the shower to heat up. He’s always tired. His relationship with sleep now is pretty damn awful. He can’t get enough of it. And if he does? He gets good, old nightmares the whole way through.

The bite at his neck is bruising. It's blotchy, just beginning to colour. He presses on it, again, catches his own gaze as he gasps. If this is how it feels for him, he thinks, how the hell does it feel for Billy? 

And he gets it, now, why Billy got that frenzied look on his face yesterday. Both times.

Both times he spilt blood. Both times he got his mouth on it and sucked.

He thumbs his lip as he climbs into the shower, catching what feels like a pinprick on the flesh. It throbs, though not as intensely as the one on his throat, more tender. He runs his thumb along it, closes his eyes, imagines Billy right there.

He slips a hand down to his dick, already half hard, gives a slow stroke. Pleasure licks up his spine, spreads like a growing flame with each tug and has him sighing. He soaks it up, the warmth settling in his bones as the water falls down his back, the slow build of pleasure as he strokes faster.

He thinks of Billy, how he would touch him. Would he go slow? Take his time, explore his body, get his mouth on every bit of him? Or would it be quick, rough? Billy taking and being unforgiving?

His dick gives a jump at the idea, Billy on top of him. Sliding home, unforgiving and greedy, biting down and drawing blood when he comes inside him. He gasps, pumps his hand.

“Billy,” He whines, drawn-out and needy, squeezing his eyes shut. Thrusts up into his fist and imagines Billy there on his knees. “Fuck.”

He’s been so tense lately, so fucking stressed over school and graduation and the tunnels that run below his feet. But now? It's like all of that has evaporated with his thumb over the bite and his fist twisting at the base of his cock.

He wants so badly. To be covered by Billy, surrounded by him. Consumed. He shoves his other hand up to his throat and presses down hard on the bite, hard enough that it throbs and causes him to jolt.

He feels something deep in his stomach snap, drawn tight like a bowstring, so sudden and causing him to cry out as he comes. 

He throws his head back against tile, now-lukewarm water cascading through his hair and into his face. Wills his blood to cool, chest heaving. 

“Shit,” He breathes out, reaching forward to turn the shower off.

He was fucked.

* * *

There’s someone sat at the head of his couch.

It doesn’t exactly take a genius to figure out who as he spots blonde curls, hears an old Led Zeppelin record from the player in the corner of the room. It tends to go untouched unless mom is home and she wants to make the big, old house a little less silent and puts on something Italian. Like it's a home. Like they’re a family.

He likes it, hearing heavy guitars unapologetic and frantic as they fill the space.

There’s a jumbo share pack of Gatorade on the coffee table in front of Billy, a paper bag from the bakery on main street full of what smells like muffins. 

“Hey,” Steve calls out, padding over, and Billy looks back at him. 

He gives a tentative smile, seating himself beside Billy, and gets another in return.

“I didn’t know what to get you,” Billy says by way of greeting, “I called Max and asked what- uh. I don’t really remember what people tend to have after a hangover, I guess. And I promised you I’d stay, didn't I? So.”

“That’s fucking sweet of you,” Steve hums, knocking his socked foot against Billy’s leg. “You know how to please a guy.”

“I’m trying,” Billy smiles, catches his hand. Threads his fingers between Steve’s. “How are you feeling?”

Steve squeezes, reaches forward to pop the cap off of the blue Gatorade and takes a mouthful. “I’m good, honestly. I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“Ah,” Billy bites into his lip, “I just freaked out. I don’t- I haven’t been with anyone like this in a little while. Not, uh, not for a couple of years I guess?”

“You don’t have to say,” Steve reassures, “Not if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, it's alright, just. Max and her mom are the only ones who know for real, you know? It's weird telling somebody else.”

He chances a glance at Steve. “You’re the first person I’ve been with since this happened to me except to, like, feed? So, six years. I forgot… I forgot how strong I can be. And how hard it is to be around people, now. I wasn’t really planning on any of this when I got here.”

Steve lifts their hands and presses his lips to Billy’s knuckles, “But you have Max? Is she, uh, what you are, too?”

“No, she’s all human. Just a little shit. She’s the one who found me like a week or something after I got attacked,” Billy snorts a laugh, a little vague. “It was hard, really fucking hard for a while, being around her and her mom. I just wanted to hurt them and it terrified me, y’know? I didn’t understand how I was alive and I was so miserable. And you gotta know, I had no idea what I was. I just got so weak.”

He pauses, shifts where he’s sat and wipes at his eyes. It's an angry motion like he’s ashamed. “Susan brought me, like, on a hike because she thought the fresh air or some shit might help. So I went. I smelled a guy bleeding out and it- it sounds fucking _ insane _, I know, okay?”

“Talking to a guy whose prized possession is a nail bat covered in monster guts, here,“ Steve cuts in, squeezes his hand. “It doesn’t.”

“Uh, well I just ditched her and I knew I was gonna kill him, right? But I couldn’t resist it. Like, I followed him and drank from him ‘til he passed out and I couldn't find his pulse and I just. I ran. It didn’t take me long to figure out what was wrong with me. I didn’t go near anyone that wasn’t Max or her mom after that.”

Steve releases Billy’s hand and he looks back with wide eyes when Steve reaches up to thumb his cheeks, push his hair from his face. “What happened after that?”

“They helped me, I guess. Susan snuck blood bags and shit home, she didn’t even question it and almost got herself fired. You believe that? And I couldn’t let that happen - she’s a single fucking mom with a little kid at the time, right? So I tried other ways. Animals and shit like that didn’t really make a dent. But I figured out that I could feed on people without killing them. That I can make them forget. Just_ , apparently, _it's hard to resist when you wanna suck their dick.”

Steve snorts, face going hot. “Presumptuous of you.”

“I’m an optimist,” Billy looks back with a smile, eyes wet, “But, yeah, uh. That’s my whole deal, Harrington. It's fucking up to you what you do with it.”

“Come here,” Steve eventually settles on, quiet as the music ends. Opens his arms and Billy goes instantly, nuzzling up against his throat. His breath is hot on his skin, a little heavy as he sniffles. “I’m really grateful you told me, you know? I mean it.”

“Mm,” Billy hums, voice muffled, nose tickling where he rubs it against Steve. He giggles, squirms away from it and has Billy grinning against him. “What?”

“Tickles, you asshole,” Steve pokes at Billy’s side, hears him gasp, feels him squirm. “See?”

“Sorry,” Billy pulls back and he’s smiling. It's this beautiful thing, his eyes creased but so red, so bright. Centred solely on Steve. “It felt good telling someone. This.. all of this feels good. Scary, but good.”

“Yeah?” Steve blinks, kisses the corner of his mouth and pulls back to Billy’s eyes fluttering shut. “Shit, you’re something else, Billy.”

Billy makes a noise, noses up his throat to press a kiss below his ear, catches his lobe between his teeth. Steve shivers. “Coming from you? You’re so gorgeous. Such a good person.”

“_ Hhng _,” Steve gets out, tangling his hand in the hair at the crown of his head. “I can’t believe you stayed. You’re so fucking sweet, baby.”

“Shit, I like you calling me that,” Billy gapes, thumbs at his lip and presses down on the flesh. Steve lets his jaw work, mouth falling open and the pad falls upon his tongue. He licks at the digit, keeps his eyes locked on Billy’s and Billy groans. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Steve teases, and Billy pulls his hand back to lick into his mouth nice and easy and his brain stops _ working _.

The pace of it makes Steve groan; Billy kissing him so slow, so gentle like they have all the time in the world. Maybe they do, he thinks as Billy gets a thumb on his jaw and tilts his face up. He’s allowed this, he’s allowed to be selfish and not think about anyone but the guy below him. He goes with it, clambers into his lap with shaky limbs without breaking the kiss.

Billy’s other hand is at the small of his back, pads of his fingers calloused and hot where they stroke at his skin. They steady him as Billy catches his lip in his teeth. Steve gives a quiet whine, strokes through thick curls.

The record skips in the background, a faraway thought he disregards as he tugs Billy’s shirt out of his waistband. He snakes a hand up to his abdomen just to feel that warmth, the body so full of power. He feels the muscles ripple as Billy moves, his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps. 

“Is this my shirt?” Steve mumbles between kisses, grins when Billy stills and knocks their noses together. The shirt is an old basketball jersey from junior year, a couple sizes too big but fitting Billy just right.

“Maybe,” Billy nips at his lip, makes them tingle. “I didn’t want to leave you alone and I had no clean clothes. Robin said-”

“It’s fine,” Steve cuts in, tugging at curls and tilting Billy’s head to the side to kiss at his jaw, “It's fucking hot, actually. Really hot.”

“Yeah?” Billy breathes, head lolling back, nails digging into the curve of his spine. Steve hisses, rocks down and has Billy moaning in his ear. “Shit.”

He circles his hips, feels Billy hard through his sweatpants, Steve’s sweatpants, and groans. Pulls at Billy’s hair hard enough that he’s canting his hips up, meeting Steve halfway.

“You feel amazing,” Steve hums, leaning his forehead against Billy’s temple. 

He could get lost in this so easy, he thinks, kissing Billy. It's addictive, he’s addictive, the way he knows exactly how to make Steve tick. 

One second he’s taking his sweet time kissing up Billy’s jaw, rocking his ass over Billy’s dick, and the next he’s laid under Billy. Then Billy’s grinning, lowering him onto cushions. Ripping his shirt open, pressing a kiss between his pecs and mumbling an apology that they both giggle at.

He pins Steve, an arm braced at the side of his head, the other wandering down through his happy trail and straight to his waistband.

“Wanna get my hand on you, King Steve,” He palms Steve through his sweats and he groans, bucks up into it. Billy bites into his lip, cherry-pink and slick with spit, presses a kiss to his stomach. “You’re so impatient.”

“Fuck, can you blame me? Look at you.” 

Steve’s powerless, laid bare at Billy’s will and he’s somehow never been turned on more in his life. He’s never had it like this, not with Nancy, not with any girl. Not with Tommy or Mckinley when they were high enough to get their hands on each other, either.

He’s sweating, his earlier shower pointless but he doesn’t care. Not when Billy’s tugging the knot of his drawstring apart and finally, finally, finally getting his hand on him. Billy takes him in his hand with delicacy, like it's something of importance, and his eyes bleed red.

“Get the fuck up here,” He pants, slides a hand in Billy’s hair again and tugs him up. Billy’s laughing, thumb sliding over his slit as he leans up and catches Steve halfway. He can clearly overpower Steve, that’s more than obvious, but he’s letting Steve demand shit all the same. It's sweet, it's so fucking sweet, and he whines as he licks into Billy’s mouth.

His chest is heaving, heart working overtime and beyond when Billy starts to pump his fist. Slow, so slow, the opposite of their kiss. Billy’s leading and Steve is so pliant with it, wants to savour every slow slide of their mouths, every stroke of Billy’s hand on his dick.

“Wanna get my hand on you,” Steve pants, sucks at the flesh of Billy’s bottom lip and watches him whine. Makes a grab for Billy’s waistband and watches him buck forward. “Want it to be good for you, too, please.”

Billy nods, kisses the corner of his mouth. Stills when Steve’s pushing his sweats down to his thighs and getting his hand on him. “You’re unreal, this is- _fuck_.”

Billy’s pace quickens, his wrist twisting with every slide that makes Steve cry out, throw his head back into throw pillows. Steve tries to match it, brain barely fucking functioning but he must do good because Billy’s panting against his cheek, fucking into his hand.

It’s hot, it's so fucking hot and Steve’s a mess. Just from this. But it feels so intimate, just him and Billy and their pants filling the silence he’s so accustomed to.

“Billy, wait- let me,” He whines something desperate because he is, and knocks Billy’s hand off his dick and tangles their fingers together. 

“What’s up,” Billy kisses at his cheek, breathes hard against his skin. 

“Can you- can we try this?” Steve says, ruts his dick up against Billy’s and wraps his hand around the both of them as best as he can. Billy gives a grunt, thrusting into his grip and against Steve’s dick and it's so much, he can’t think.

Billy kisses down his jaw, his throat until he’s hovering over the cut he left last night. Joins Steve's hand on their dicks.

“You know, I heard you,” Billy says, the rasp of his voice going straight to Steve’s groin and he’s so close, Billy’s teeth grazing his throat, his dick sliding up against his. “In the shower, baby. Heard you say my name when you came.”

Then he’s lowering his mouth to the bruise and sucking at the skin.

Steve chokes on whatever he was about to say, orgasm punching through him as he comes without warning over Billy’s palm. His thighs seize around Billy’s and he manages a couple of weak thrusts as he chases after it, eyes squeezed shut. He doesn’t really register anything but Billy fucking against him when suddenly Billy’s gasping out his name, coming on his stomach.

For a moment, Steve thinks he’s forgone breathing as his chest heaves up and down. He sucks in a breath, presses a wet kiss to Billy’s cheek and makes him heave out a laugh.

"Shit."

“Yeah,” Billy grins, knocking their foreheads together as he pants, and Steve feels warmth all over. Knows he looks a mess, hell, he fucking feels it. Can see how flushed he is, all the way down his chest, and knows his face is the same. “That was. Fuck.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve grins, runs a hand through sweaty curls, catching his breath. Gold in the morning sunlight, unreal, just like the rest of him. Beauty that shouldn’t exist but does all the same, and maybe Steve gets a little whimsical after coming. He’s still a little out of it, riding on pleasure and nothing more. His bones are liquid. Sue him. “That everything you remember it to be?”

“Better, honey,” Billy kisses him, so sweet and over as soon as it's begun, collapses onto him with no formality. “Perfect.”

“Careful, I’ll start getting an ego with words like that.”

“You should,” Billy hums, nips lazily at his jaw, “King fuckin’ Steve, alright.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve grins, pushes at his shoulder and Billy doesn’t budge. A big, sexy lump curled up on him. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything that good.”

“Mm, wanna get my mouth on you next time,” Billy says like it's nothing, licks at the sweat at his neck and, like, it should be disgusting but he doesn’t really care. 

“And have you bite my dick off? No, thank you,” Steve laughs and Billy does with him, giggling openly above him.

_Next time_, he thinks all giddy, catching Billy’s mouth again. Billy instantly goes with it, smiling against his lips and kissing them open.

“Shower?” He hums against the corner of Steve’s mouth, and Steve’s suddenly very aware of the come drying on his stomach, _which_. Nasty. “I have to get back by two.”

A quick glance at the analogue clock tells Steve it's barely past ten. He nods anyway.

“Take me to the drive-in by Centerbrook next week,” He blows at the curl falling in his face and Billy grins, collects Steve in his arms and stands.

“It’s a date.”

* * *

“Why’d you have to get back?”

Steve watches as Billy buttons up freshly-washed-and-dried jeans in the mirror, meeting Steve’s eye with an almost shy smile.

“Ah, I promised Max I’d drive her to her nerd friends’ house, they’re, like, doing dungeons and dragons or some shit. She never tells me.”

“Hold on. Max Mayfield?”

“Yes? My sister?”

“Oh,” Steve grins, shakes his head and determines Billy’s furrowed brow is cute. “The kids I, uh, mentioned last night? She’s their new party member that Dustin was telling me about. I didn’t realise ‘til you mentioned dungeons and dragons, y’know?”

“Shit,” Billy snorts, “It never clicked that they were the same kids.”

“Yeah,” Steve hums, interrupted by the growl of his stomach. He flushes. “Sorry. Guess I didn’t really eat, earlier.”

“Don’t apologise, dumbass,” Billy smiles, an easy one, comes to sit beside him on the bed. “I don’t have to be back right on the dot. I can make you something.”

Steve narrows his eyes, “I can cook for myself. C’mon, your sister needs you.”

“She has a bike,” Billy pouts, noses at Steve’s cheek. 

Steve smiles, presses a quick kiss to his lips. “And a brother I’m sure loves her very much? One that’s been gone all night?”

Billy groans, exaggerated, and Steve grins. “Walk me out?”

Steve laughs, standing and following him down the stairs.

“I’ll see you on Monday?” He says when they’re by the front door, and they both know he’s stalling.

Billy’s licking over his lips, head tilted. “Basketball’s third period, baby, I’m gonna knock you off your feet.”

“I believe it,” Steve snorts, presses a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Now go.”

Billy holds his hands up with a grin, pulling the door open and walking to the Camaro. 

He watches until the Camaro's gone and he’s enveloped in quiet once again. Eyes the tree line and shakes the feeling of being watched. Ignores the shadows in the afternoon sun as the branches tangle together in the wind.

He slams the door shut and races back to the couch, releasing a breath when the bat’s in sight, leant up against the mantle. Switches the television set on high and tries his best to ignore the chill he feels run up his spine.

He’d call Hop in the morning, he thought, nails digging into his palm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI another reminder that i suck at smut my apologies. also its 2am so typos will be sorted tomorrow lmao
> 
> i had to split this chapter up because it was getting waaay too big. I have quite a lot coming up over the next couple weeks so an update won't be coming for a little while!
> 
> i hope y'all enjoy regardless! i can't waaait to get the plot thickened and make these boys start to fall in love!

Monsters with flower petals made up with teeth for faces haunt him until he’s waking with a sweat. A crook in his neck and an ache in his arm because he wasn’t eight anymore and he didn’t fit on the couch right.

He couldn’t get comfortable in his room. Too secluded, dark, too much of a reminder of everything he couldn’t escape soon as his eyes shut.

So, he clambers out of the living room and heats the leftovers that Mrs. Henderson sent Dustin over with a couple days back just as the clock is hitting eight and the sun’s rising. Washing them down with flat pop because there’s nothing but that left in the fridge. 

He’s restless waiting for it to hit nine, knows that’s when Hopper usually gets into work.

Every call to his office goes straight to voicemail. 

He tries for an hour straight until he has no choice but to leave and go pick up Dustin. He’s already twenty minutes late and he promised the kid he’d get him to the arcade in time for their tournament or whatever.

He takes the bat out to the car with him, looks absolutely nowhere near the treeline and shoves it down by his feet.

He’s a wreck on the way to the Henderson’s. Shaking like a fucking leaf, heart going a mile a minute while he turns Madonna up high to tear into the silence. And it's stupid. It is. It's probably just him freaking since it's coming up to a year since everything happened. And his nightmares have increased lately. That stone cold fact helps him breathe.

It’d be fine.

Then Dustin’s rapping at the window, big, stupid grin on his face and Steve can’t help but smile back. Swallows down that fucking lump in his throat.

“Steve, hey,” Dustin rushes out, throwing his bag in the back and clambering onto the seat. He leans forward to play with the deck and Steve sighs. The song changes from Wham’s  _ Last Christmas  _ to  _ Rio _ . “Buddy, guess what I heard.”

“I was listening to that, you little shit,” Steve drums his fingers on the wheel, “Fine, what’d you hear, man?”

“Dude, it's  _ November _ , first of all,” He throws Steve this look of disgust that makes laughter bubble in his chest, “Okay, so, second. You know Anna Jacobi’s brother is in the class below me, right?”

Steve squints, “..Yeah?”

“Right. So he wanted to join us last week at the AV club last week. He heard about Will’s new campaign he was making up and, like, pitching to all of us over lunch. Totally cool as shit, by the way. So, naturally, we can’t let him in straight away- it’s a pretty tight knit group, y’know? So then he was like, whatever, and he started telling us about-”

Steve bites at his cheek to keep from laughing, “Does this story have a point, dipshit?”

“Shut up, Steve, doing you a favour here,” Dustin pulls a snickers out of nowhere, stuffs half of it all melted in his mouth like it's not  _ disgusting _ . “So, he’s talking shit about Anna, yeah? And he and Mike have this bonding moment where they’re crapping on having older sisters, being the middle child etcetera, etcetera. You following me?”

“Think so,” Steve breathes out a laugh as the road leads from the woods back into the streets and toward main, finally. “Lay the revelation on me.”

“ _ So _ , then he reveals that she broke up with McKinley last week. Meaning, thanks to me and my immaculate deduction skills, you’ve actually got a shot with her, buddy. Well, like, five percent more of a chance.  _ But  _ it's not impossible.”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve presses his lips together. “About that.”

Dustin chomps, speaks all slow and careful like Steve is the one who just graduated middle school. “Is this about Nancy, buddy?”

“Hah. No, uh, I just don’t really care that much anymore? About the whole getting a date with Anna. Y’know? I don’t, um. She’s cute and all but there’s nothing there, I don’t think.”

Dustin’s eyes go all big and sad and Steve almost feels guilty. “But you said you were ready to move on, man. I really wanted to help you.”

“I appreciate that, alright? I really do. You’re a great little wingman, I swear. It's just- I’ve moved on, I think.”

“You’ve moved on... from moving on? But, Steve, that’s like… reverting back to not moving on and you got me a little confused here, buddy.”

“I met somebody, alright, Henderson? It's super fucking new and. And it's... I don’t know yet. But you can’t say shit. Not yet, okay? Not ‘til I know.”

“Oh,” Dustin sits back, ponders as he chews. “Oh  _ shit _ . Is that why your neck’s all fucked up?”

“It's not- I went to a  _ party _ , Henderson, not that it's any of your nosy little fucking business.” Steve purses his lips at Dustin’s laugh. “This person is, ah, a lot different than what I’m used to. And I don’t want to fuck anything up, ‘specially since it's so new, you know? Christ, why am I telling  _ you  _ this?”

“Gee, Steve, it's almost like we’re  _ friends _ . But, uh, I’m happy for you?”

“Thanks, bud.” Steve nods to himself and Dustin goes back to chewing. “And before you insist I do; no, I won’t tell you who.”

“I didn’t care anyway,” Dustin retorts, crossing his arms and kicking his feet up.

“Hey, buddy,  _ c’mon _ , no feet on the dash.”

Dustin narrows his eyes at him, settling his feet back on the floor so slowly that half the chorus passes. Then he grins, sheepish, and Steve sighs.

“Just ‘cause you’re my favourite doesn’t mean you’re exempt from the rules, man.”

Dustin crunches on his snickers, mouth open and leaving  _ crumbs _ . “You wouldn’t tell Will not to.”

“Uh, yeah, ‘cause he’s a sweet kid. You’re just a shit head.”

“Nope,” Dustin says, not missing a beat, toying with the baggy of quarters on his lap. “I get you free food from my mom all the time. And I got you that discount at the video store - one you definitely didn’t need, by the way - because Cindy thought I was cute.”

“Shut it,” Steve knocks the kid’s shoulder and they’re both grinning. “The movie sucked, by the way.”

“Duh, it's  _ Police Academy _ . You were the one who picked it, Steve, you can’t blame your crappy taste on me.”

“Whatever. I didn’t have to pick you up and take you to the arcade for free on a Sunday morning, y’know. You do have this thing that, like, has wheels and a pedal and everything.”

Dustin meets Steve’s eye, crumples his snickers wrapper and drops it to the floor. “ _ Hah hah _ .”

“Hey, look, lucky you.” Steve deadpans as he turns into the parking lot, spotting the Camaro and feeling his chest lurch. “We’re here.”

Dustin rolls his eyes, opens the door and bounds off to where Mike, Lucas and Will are bundled together by the entrance, warming their gloved hands. Max raises a hand in greeting where she stands beside Billy against the side of the Camaro, a hot chocolate in hand. Keith watches from where he’s taking a smoke break, mouth stained orange, giving the cup a glare that she matches. 

Billy’s got this sheer black shirt unbuttoned to his naval, which.  _ Okay. _

“Yeah, you’re welcome for the lift, shithead,” Steve calls as Dustin looks back to stick his middle finger up at him.

“You believe the way these hicks talk to each other in this town?” Billy’s nudging Max with his foot, blowing smoke out of his mouth. A mouth that was on him just a day ago. He’s staring back at Steve with a smirk. “No goddamn respect.”

“What, like you don’t curse me out like a sailor every day for breathing,” Max laughs, nudging him back with her elbow, forceful. She has froff on her upper lip. Billy feigns shock, moves to ruffle her hair and have her grumbling. “Asshole!”

“See? Been here all of a month and you’re already under their influence.”

“Whatever,” She rolls her eyes, flattening her hair with her palm, then she regards Steve with a smile, one too bright to be genuine. “He’s been freaking out since I told him you were dropping off Dustin. He didn’t want me to tell you. He doesn’t know how to socialise like a regular human being.”

“You’re such a dick,” Billy bares his teeth at her. Max snorts a laugh and Steve’s kind of fighting one himself, cheeks hot when Billy looks back to him. “Get to your fucking nerd brigade before I change my mind and ask for my money back.”

“Whatever. Mom wants me back at eight, so have fun.” Max squints between them, takes the handful of change Billy’s thrusting her way with a smirk, “Bye, Steve.”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve snorts, “See you, Mayfield.”

Then she’s dumping the cup and running inside then Billy’s sighing in the silence of the desolate parking lot. Stomping out the stub of his cigarette and turning to Steve with a smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Steve comes forward to lean against the Camaro door, much like Max had been stood, and Billy twists to watch him with a curious glint in his eye.

He decides to be brave, the emptiness around them and Billy’s grin emboldening him, and reaches out to curl his finger through Billy’s belt loop. Pulls him closer and Billy stumbles forward, laughing softly.

“What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“ _ Wow _ ,” Billy throws his head back and cackles, “Baby, you are bad at this.”

“Shut up,” Steve’s grinning and Billy’s leaning in to catch his mouth in a quick kiss. Steve’s chasing when he’s backing away, reigns him in again.

“I like it,” Billy smiles after a second or twenty against his mouth.

The metal against his skin even through his jacket is biting as Billy cages him in, captures his mouth, kisses him all desperate like they weren’t getting off like a day ago. He tastes of smoke and mint.

“I was gonna ask how you are,” Billy says softly, smooths his hands down the fur on Steve’s jacket. “But.”

Steve presses down on one of the buttons of Billy’s shirt and Billy jolts. “I’m good now.”

“Good,” Billy hums, eyes flitting back to the arcade doors. He tucks Steve’s hair behind his ear. Drags his lips up Steve’s jaw. “You gonna ask me how I’m doing?”

Steve huffs a laugh, shivers. Watches as Billy licks his lips. “How are you doing, Billy?”

Billy tilts his head to the side, fingers Steve’s chest through a gap in his shirt. That warmth surges through him and he shudders. He arches into him, a moth to a flame.

He drags his index between Steve’s pecs, all the way down to his navel. “You know, I’m feelin’ kind of restless today. I just do not know why.”

Steve hums, fighting a smile. “That right?”

“Yep,” He draws out, thumbs Steve’s nipple until he grunts and steps away. Because they’re in  _ public _ . “I was planning on going to get more smokes, if you’re up for a detour.”

Steve clears his throat, “I was gonna go visit the Chief, actually.”

“Yeah?” Billy’s smile falls a little, gaze dipping to his chest and like. Yeah, of  _ course  _ he can tell Steve’s heart is all kinds of fucked right now. “Did something happen?”

Steve’s face heats because he  _ knows  _ it sounds ridiculous. “Um, after you left yesterday I kind of thought I saw something. Something… uh.”

The words get stuck in his throat, like if he says them, it makes it true. Makes it a possibility. Billy catches his hand and thumbs over his knuckles and looks so sincere it makes Steve’s stomach flip.

“What was it?”

“I thought I saw a monster. One just like the one that bit me. I felt like I was being watched, you know? And the Chief, his daughter, they’ve both helped fight them before. He keeps shit in check. I thought he needed to know. Even if it's nothing. But, uh, we don’t tend to get that lucky.”

Billy frowns, “You’re saying they’ve turned up more than once?” 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, gets rows and rows of teeth burning at the back of his vision. “Yeah. Couple of times.”

“Jesus,” Billy noses at his cheek. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Uh, please,” Steve reddens, takes a steady breath and settles his hands on Billy’s chest. Warm. Grounding. “If you don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t have suggested if I did, pretty boy,” He takes Steve’s hand, “C’mon. I’ll drive you.”

“Yeah,” Steve tries a smile and Billy knocks their joined hands into his side as they walk. It's too intimate and Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself. It's not like he  _ minds  _ that Billy is all in, no fucking about. It's not like he’s any different. He got clingy as fuck with Nancy. He knew this would grow until Billy got tired of it too. “Yeah, okay.”

They clamber into the Camaro right as it begins to rain and Steve tilts his head back into the cushion of the passenger seat. It's warm, some rock star’s crooning from the speakers blending in with the rain and it’s perfect, really. Makes his eyes fall heavy.

Billy’s watching when he opens his eyes, brows furrowed, but he says nothing.

The engine growls as they pull out and race down main street. It makes Steve’s stomach lurch. Gets him smiling, grinning, even.

“She’s pretty, huh?” Billy comments, sat back all relaxed, legs parted. “Can’t believe you drive around in that hunk of shit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve chuckles, stretches out a little. Relaxes into the leather. “It's alright, I guess.”

He catches Billy’s grin as he turns back to the windshield. It's pouring hard now, enough so that Steve has to squint to see further than a couple houses down. The sky’s angry, unforgiving as dark clouds stitch together and paint everything ahead in grey. The wipers aren’t even on.

“This place is so fucked,” is all that Billy comments after a moment, calm and collected. Steve huffs.

Steve’s head lolls to the side to watch Billy. “What, because the weather sucks ass?”

“Nah. I mean, it  _ does _ , but it's just... something wrong. Toxic. I can tell this place isn’t right even if you hadn’t told me about the shit going on, you know? Every fucking thing about it.”

“Yeah,” Steve huffs a laugh and his fingers twitch. He left the bat in the beemer. “I fucking hate this place.”

Billy reaches over and squeezes his knee.

“San Diego was the same. I moved there from Monterey when I was a kid and it felt so fucked up. Like everything was backwards, that everyone was watching me everywhere I went. I was on edge the full time, just waiting for something.” He shrugs, “Turns out I was right.”

Steve encases Billy’s hand in his own, still on his knee, thumbs over his knuckles. The pad catches on a strip of skin, calloused and white, and he soothes.

“I’m sorry that that happened to you. Nobody- you didn’t deserve that. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about you lying there and Max finding you like that. it's awful. I’m sorry.”

Billy blinks, eyes flitting away. Steve thinks if he were still human he would be blushing. “It's fine. I don’t really - it doesn’t bother me so much anymore.”

“Still,” Steve whispers, presses a close-mouthed kiss to his wrist. “I wish it hadn’t happened to you. They took so much from you. You’re allowed to be fucking angry.”

“It’s okay, Steve,” Billy’s eyes are a little watery and, like, he wasn’t sure if vampires  _ could  _ cry. But Steve’s a little overwhelmed at the sight, feels his chest all tight like he’s the one hurting. “I promise. I’m dealing with it.”

It's not okay, Steve knows it by the hunch of his shoulders, the set of his jaw. But Billy clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. Probably just like how the sheer mention of the Upside Down makes Steve want to  _ run _ .

“Okay,” Steve thumbs over his scar again, probably one of many he’s yet to see, yet to know like, well. Like the back of his hand. “Do you want to maybe, uh. Can I hug you?”

“You had my come on your stomach yesterday,” Billy glances at him with his mouth upturned, slowing the car to a halt anyway. The woods and the rain surround them, encase them like a blanket.

Steve clambers over the gearshift, settling his knees between Billy’s thighs to lean in and press a kiss to his temple. Billy’s eyes flutter and he tilts his head to look up at Steve before Steve’s sliding his arms around his frame. Billy’s eyes shut entirely.

It's nice, it's so fucking nice, just to hold someone. He feels Billy’s warmth seep through their layers and settle him in spite of the cold sneaking through every nook and smiles against his chest. He’s warmer than the heater that whirs through the car. 

Billy’s humming little noises as Steve gets a hand in his curls. Runs it through them, blunt nails scratching over his scalp all lazy. Billy lets his head fall forward and he settles his face in his neck.

“You’re comfy,” Billy comments, a little leaden. Steve feels his lashes drag along his throat. He sighs, kisses Billy’s hair. It smells of apples. Reminds him of Friday in the showers and he feels his face heat.

“Kinda killing my knees here,” Steve grins, “But it's worth it. You’re all warm, cosy. Like the best fucking sexiest pillow ever.”

Billy chortles and he feels hands snake down to his ass and lift him onto Billy’s lap with ease. Billy’s eyes are still shut and his smile is lax and cute. His hands drag up under Steve’s jacket and splay flat at the base of his spine.

“That better?” His eyes flutter open and they’re red. They’re truly beautiful, make Steve’s blood run hot where they look up at Steve so gently. 

“Mm,” Steve smiles, hands coming up to wrap around Billy’s shoulders. The intimacy is kind of blowing his mind, here, getting him hard nice and slow. He didn’t even realise he  _ was, _ he’s just so relaxed, so at peace. Apparently being cared for gets him off. Who knew.

“You know what I miss?” Billy asks, so quiet, and Steve hums against Billy’s temple. “Fries.”

Steve frowns, settles back in his lap. Ignores the hard on pressing at the seam of his jeans. Tries really hard to ignore how good he feels being all curled up and small on Billy like this.

“You can’t eat at all?”

The sun filters through the clouds, through rain so hard it creates a mist and paints Billy in muted gold. Makes his eyes shine. “I can a little. Anything more than a mouthful makes me throw up. Like my body repels it. Kinda fucked, huh?”

Steve scratches at Billy’s nape and gets a little groan in response. “What if they were, like, dipped in blood?”

“Doesn’t fucking work like that, I don’t think,” Billy cuts off, grinning so wide his eyes go all cute and wrinkled. His nose is all scrunched up while he laughs. “You’re so fucking cute, baby.”

“I’ve been told,” Steve retorts and they’re both grinning when Billy presses his mouth to the corner of Steve’s all gentle. Like he’s gonna melt, or something.

Steve dips his head, catches Billy’s mouth. Billy sighs, kissing back instantly. Cups Steve’s chin and licks past the seam of his mouth so slow. Like it comes naturally, as natural as anything can be. 

It makes Steve’s spine tingle as Billy’s tongue meets the roof of his mouth and he melts into it. Scoots closer, enough that their chests press together and Billy smiles. Thumbs down the dip of his spine.

It's reminiscent of yesterday, in a way. But it's so different. So gentle, intimate in a way he hasn’t been in so long. So fucking long.

“Stevie,” Billy gasps when Steve starts circling his hips in languid figure eights. “Come on.” 

“What are you asking, Billy?” Steve says, knowing the answer when Billy’s licking over his lips. “I gotta hear you say it.”

Billy sucks at the flesh of Steve’s bottom lip, all wet and loud in the silence. Grins, bites at Steve’s jaw just to get him gasping.

“I wanna get my mouth on you. I want you to fuck my throat raw, then I want you to come down it. That good enough for you?”

“Uh-” Steve’s mind stops functioning, “Yeah. Shit, yeah. That’s - uh.  _ Yes _ , yes, please.”

“Yeah, baby?” Billy’s lips spread in a grin. The rain continues to hammer away at the glass, Steve’s heart mimicking as it climbs his throat when he dips to kiss him again. He’s trembling with it.

“Yeah,” Steve whispers. Bites at the flesh of his lip and apparently that gets Billy going because he bucks up. Gets a hand in his hair and tugs enough that Steve’s hissing, altering the angle so easily and it's good. It's so fucking good, this desperate slide of their lips, Billy’s tongue fucking into his mouth while he gets Steve panting.

There’s a trail of saliva when Steve’s pulling back. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, hurried. Billy’s chest is heaving, watching him with eyes so dark they’re almost black.

Then, before Steve can get out his next breath, he’s suddenly splayed in the back of the Camaro. Laid back, legs spread as Billy kneels between them, hands on his thighs. And all he can do is whine, reach up for a kiss Billy’s all too eager to give.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about your cock,” Billy’s grinning, tugging his jeans down his thighs like they burn to touch. “Or your lips.  _ Especially  _ your lips, baby, they’re fucking magic. Got off in the car after I left yesterday thinking about them.”

“Shit, Billy,” He gasps out, grabbing at Billy’s hips. Billy grins as he rakes up Steve’s shirt, breathing hot on his skin.

“So gorgeous, baby,” Billy bites beside the thick hair of his happy trail, traipsing a hand up his chest while he looks up with eyes that bleed crimson with heat. And Steve’s on fire.

Steve’s hands sneak back to grab at Billy’s ass and pull him down, enough to align their hard dicks. They’re barely separated through the thin material of Steve’s briefs. He’s panting as Billy grinds their dicks together, licking his lips as he watches Steve from above. He reigns him in for a kiss.

“You’re insatiable,” He grins against Billy’s mouth and feels him smile, too. Then he gets a hand over his dick, heavy and leaking in his briefs.

“What’re you gonna do about it,” Billy’s raising a brow, thumbs over the wet spot of the cotton where his slit is and Steve hisses. Bares his throat. Wants Billy to  _ take _ .

He doesn’t. He presses a kiss below his ear, trails his mouth along the constellation of moles at his throat until he’s at his pulse point. Then he licks along the vein, little moans leaving his mouth with every open kiss he presses to his throat.

“Nothing,” He swallows, reaches out to grab at Billy’s shirt, his arm, anything. Finds Billy’s hand and threads their fingers together. “I want- I’d let you do anything, Billy. Anything you want.”

Billy groans, teeth just grazing his Adam’s apple and Steve’s eyes roll back. “Dangerous words there, baby.” 

“Not when I mean them,” Steve meets eyes swallowed by black and ringed by red. Smiles as his chest heaves even though they haven’t done anything. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

Billy’s tongue is at his clavicle when he finally tugs Steve’s dick free, gets his hand around him and Steve’s shuddering.

“I just want to take care of you,” He says between licks down his abdomen and, like. Steve’s body’s running on autopilot for him because his brain has gone  _ blank _ . “Want you to feel good.”

“Shit,” Steve groans, strains to watch as Billy sits back, slots himself between Steve’s thighs like he belongs there and digs his fingers into the meat of them. “What if someone- you think anyone will see?”

“Not in this weather,” Billy grins and his canines peek out of his mouth. He licks over them and Steve falls back all slack. He’s gonna be eaten alive. “Just me and you and this car, gorgeous.”

“ _ Oh my god _ ,” Steve’s whining when Billy sinks his teeth into his thigh, just close enough to his dick that it gives a twitch. Billy’s other hand is still in Steve’s and he squeezes, peering up at him so sweet like he’s not got Steve so easy in his hold, so happy to submit.

“Can I-” Billy’s gasping, sweat beading on his forehead. “I really want your cock in my mouth, now. If that’s okay.”

“If that’s-” Steve chokes on a laugh and he can hear how wrecked he sounds already. He can't bring himself to  _ care _ , though. “Of course it is,  _ Jesus _ . Please.”

Billy presses a quick kiss to his inner thigh before taking his dick in his mouth. He takes him deep, nose pressed to the hair there. He hums around him, swallows, and Steve’s groan is drawn out, way too high.

“Move,” He grunts, hand falling to Billy’s hair and tugging. And Billy  _ moans _ .

He’s bobbing his head nice and slow when he drags Steve’s other hand to his hair and  _ oh _ . He really wants Steve to fuck his mouth and that’s. That’s too much.

Steve’s shaking, gasping, when Billy pops his mouth off of his dick just to get his lips around his head, tongueing at the slit.

“Billy,  _ Billy _ . Holy shit- God. Your mouth, baby, you’re so good-”

“Fuck my throat,” Billy rushes, voice all hoarse, his nails in his thighs stinging. It's so fucking good and Steve’s close  _ already. _

“Okay,” He strokes through sweaty curls and Billy smiles before taking him in his mouth again. Catching the vein on the underside of his cock with his tongue and Steve’s trembling with it. 

Something about how gentle he’s being, how he wants Steve to overpower him even though he’s so much fucking  _ stronger.. _ . well. It makes him whine like a bitch.

He tightens his grip in Billy’s hair, a little unsure, and Billy moans. Pushes back into his grip, watching him so intently that Steve feels himself flush which is fucking stupid. But Billy chuckles around his dick and has Steve smiling despite himself.

“Okay, I’ll- I’ll be careful, then,” He chokes out, dick twitching at the thought of fucking into Billy’s mouth. Just using him to get off. Something about it makes him feel dirty, wrong, and shame ripples up his spine because he  _ likes  _ it.

Billy squeezes his thigh, encouraging. Pulls back to press a kiss to his stomach, “Don’t want you to be, sweetheart. You’re so gorgeous, look at you.”

So he pushes his dick past open, wet lips that sheen. Billy’s tongue meets his head and it's so warm and wet that Steve’s gasping, tightening his grip on curls and Billy’s sighing, too. It vibrates around his dick as he slides in further and he can’t think. It's so hot, Billy just letting him do this.  _ Wanting  _ him to.

Billy’s jaw has gone lax and he’s grinding up against the leather they’re both perched on. Steve bites into his lip so hard it hurts and pulls out, fucks into his mouth again.

“ _ Shit _ , Billy,” He’s saying as Billy swallows, throat constricting around his dick, moaning like he’s the one getting his soul sucked out of his.

He lets his hips rock forward on their own accord, awed by Billy’s reaction. He’s whining now, slurping all messy at the head of his dick while Steve pauses to breathe and it's so fucking unlike anything he’s had. Feels like the air in his chest has been punched out of him by just how into it he is.

Billy’s hollowing his cheeks, saliva collecting at the corner of his open mouth and-

“Billy, I’m gonna- I need to come,” He grits out, tugging at his hair and watching Billy’s eyes slip shut. “Billy, you’re-  _ fuck  _ \- you see what you’re doin’ to me? You’re amazing, so amazing.”

Billy gets his hands around Steve’s thighs, gripping hard and dragging a grunt out of Steve as he pulls him up and into his mouth.

“Jesus, oh my god.  _ Oh my god _ ,” He’s babbling, thrusting in spite of how his hips ache already. Doesn’t fucking care. Ignores it and latches only Billy’s hair, chasing the release he can feel is close.

Billy starts to bob his head in time with his thrusts, throat constricting all tight and hot around him. Steve thrusts once more before he’s spilling down the back of Billy’s throat.

He trembles with it, body drawn tight. Billy swallows around him, makes a pleased little noise. Drags his tongue up his dick before pulling off completely. Like he’s savouring it.

“Baby,” He groans, and his voice is  _ wrecked _ . 

Then he’s crawling up Steve’s body, caging him in, and kissing him slow and deep. Steve goes with it without a thought, moaning into his mouth. Billy’s clutching at his jaw, thumbing it so sweetly.

“You’re perfect,” He sighs, grinds his dick against Steve’s stomach all lazy. “So gorgeous, baby, want my mouth on you all the fucking time.”

“ _ Jesus- _ ” Steve’s gasping, running his hand through curls. “You close?”

“Yeah,” Billy grunts, mouthing at his cheek. His lips are all swollen, red and pretty, and Steve leans in to kiss him again. Billy starts to fuck into his happy trail, making little keen noises against his mouth.

He pulls back to kiss down Steve’s throat, grazes sharp canines along the skin. “Can I bite you?”

“Yes, Jesus,  _ yes _ . Please.”

Then Billy’s teeth are breaking skin, lips soft around the puncture. There’s that pressure again, a sharp pain that makes him hiss. It feels fucking amazing. Like he’s on the edge of coming the second Billy gets his teeth in him. He tingles all over, head to toe, and groans loud enough that Billy’s chuckling against him.

He’s gonna get weird looks for a good week. Nancy’s gonna act all concerned and Robin’s gonna smirk and Tommy’s gonna sneer and- none of that fucking matters. None of it. He tugs at Billy’s hair, wants him  _ closer _ .

Billy’s mewling against him, thrusts going frenzied. Sporadic. His hand at Steve’s bicep clutches so hard it makes Steve hiss, makes his dick pulse. He can feel his throat sticky with his own blood, feels it slip down to his collarbone. It's hot on his clammy skin then Billy’s there, pulling off to catch it with his tongue. He gets his mouth on Steve’s throat again, his grip on him like a vice as he growls out Steve’s name.

Then Billy’s coming on his stomach, gasping in the crook of his shoulder.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Steve’s saying softly, stroking through the hair that’s fallen in his face. He feels exhausted, body singing in pleasure, muscles lax and sore now that they’re still.

Billy presses a kiss to his hip, thumbs at his bicep in apology, before he’s running his tongue up his stomach and lapping up the come there.

“Jesus, Billy,” He chokes out in a gasp, knows he’s about to get hard again when Billy’s making these sounds, nipping at his skin while he licks his own fucking jizz off of Steve. It's the hottest thing he’s ever seen, Billy’s hand snaking up and down the inside of his thigh with his tongue lapping at his stomach like he’s starving for it.

Billy presses a kiss at Steve’s hip when he’s done, crawls up his body in the form of sucks and wet kisses that tease sharp canines and, like, Steve’s  _ sweating.  _ His dick’s leaking, sensitive and, apparently, really fucking here for it.

He grips Billy’s hips and grinds up against the thigh Billy is all too happy to slot between his legs, desperate and rushed. Billy’s whispering praises in his ear, his palm hot as he spits into it and gets it around Steve’s dick.

“Take what you need, baby, c’mon,” Billy says, and Steve’s gripping at his back for some kind of leverage.

Steve’s throwing his head back and Billy catches him by the crown of his head. Kisses him sloppy and messy and there’s the vague taste of jizz and copper and it's only  _ kind of  _ gross.

“Come on, baby, you’re almost there,” Billy’s voice is husky, vibrates against him as he’s teasing the wound at his throat. He’s barely breathing on it but it gets Steve fucking up into Billy’s hand harder anyway, choking on a whine of his name.

“You really get off on that?” And Billy sounds  _ surprised, _ hand slowing on his dick. Steve gets a hand in his hair and pulls, tugs him up into another kiss that Billy’s chuckling into.

“ _ Yes _ ,” He hisses, tilting his head to the side and feeling Billy’s breath quicken. “I wasn’t fucking- lying. At- at the party. You’re so hot, fuck. Fucking unreal.”

“Baby,” Billy’s growling, looking down to Steve with this determined look and he’s fast reminded of the fact that Billy could kill him, could  _ ruin  _ him-

Billy’s hand twists at the base of his dick, the other palming his cheek and Steve trembles with it. “Holy fuck. So beautiful. Don’t wanna stay away from you.”

“So don’t,” Steve’s lungs are heaving and his thrusts a little frantic as he draws closer. Billy must realise because he’s stroking faster _ ,  _ thumbing away the tears he hadn’t realised had formed, looking down at him in awe like he’s the one who’s deserving of it.

“That’s right,” Billy purrs, and has Steve grunting. He’s exhausted, so spent and his adrenaline of fucking out in the open is trickling out by the second but Billy’s so gorgeous and feels so good and he’s so close that it hurts.

Then he’s gripping at the hand at his face, a warning, and Billy’s grinning. Licking over his lips all obscene and pumping his dick and Steve’s coming in his hand with a silent scream of his name.

He thinks Billy cleans him up with his shirt, throws it on the floor. He’s too boneless to whine about that, just pulls Billy down.

Billy falls lax on top of him with a laugh, makes Steve grunt in surprise, pulls a hoarse chuckle out of him.

“Holy shit,” Billy sighs, stretching like a cat, all long, muscular limbs curled around him. His swollen lips press to Steve’s and it makes him tingle when they kiss all languid and open-mouthed and perfect.

“I don’t think I can feel my legs,” Steve says when he needs to breathe and Billy smiles against his mouth. Curves a hand at his hip, nuzzles into his shoulder. 

“That good?” 

Steve ran a hand through his hair, stuck to his head. He was so warm, now. Comfortable with Billy curled against him. The world could be fucking splitting in two and he wouldn’t care right now, which he thinks was Billy’s whole point to this. Making him feel good. Safe.

He felt safe. Protected, here, gathered up in Billy’s arms. Pressed between him and the back of the seat.

He blows out a laugh, “Shut up, you know it was.”

“Mm?” Billy yawns against his jaw. “You were the one panting my name like a bitch, arching so perfect for me. Gorgeous, baby.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve’s chest constricts and he can’t help but flush. “You know, I really did just want to hug you.”

Billy barks a laugh, strokes his hand up and down Steve’s bicep. It's cute, really cute, and he’s nosing at Billy’s jaw. “You’re so fucking sweet, you know? Unreal.”

Steve curls into him, lets Billy pull him back against his chest and throw Steve’s coat over the both of them.

“Rest,” Billy whispers, not sounding tired in the slightest, presses a kiss to his hair.

“Mm,” Steve gets out in reply, and does just that.

* * *

The rain has eased into drizzle when Steve wakes.

He wakes with his head in Billy’s lap while he blows smoke out of the window. The air is cold, striking, and he seeks out Billy’s heat on instinct. Noses at his jaw and groans about shutting the window.

“Sorry, Bambi,” Billy chuckles softly, bends to grab at the jacket that must’ve fallen to the floor and dumps it on Steve’s head. Steve pulls it off with a grumble while his hair falls in his face and Billy grins. “You sleep good?”

“Yeah, had a comfy pillow,” He smiles, pulling the jacket on anyway even as Billy inhales the last of the cig. “Bambi?”

“Yeah, big, pretty doe eyes. You’re all wide-eyed and curious all the time, dotted in freckles and moles and shit, you got that pretty brown hair,” He shrugs, naked shoulders rolling back. Steve realises his shirt is still on the floor. “Bambi.”

Steve sits up, pushes his hair back. Bites into a smile. 

“Sure thing, Rob Lowe.”

Billy throws his head back and cackles, chucks the butt of the cig out of the window. Curls his hand at Steve’s jaw. Presses a couple kisses there. “I’m not even mad at that, shit.”

Steve snorts, tugs at Billy’s earring and has him wheezing a high-pitched laugh in surprise. 

“It's, like, St. Elmo’s fire,” He’s grinning and Billy’s eyes are creased as he smiles and it makes his stomach flip, “Cute.”

“Had this in my ear since ‘79, baby. Maybe I should get suing his ass.”

“Shit, you look better than some asshole movie star,” Steve says, splays a hand over Billy’s abdomen and watches the muscles beneath flutter. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Billy’s smile widens, slow and lazy and real. He knocks his knee against Steve’s and pulls him into his lap. “You say that to all the girls, Stevie?”

“Only the ones I want in my pants,” Steve says and Billy snorts, gets his hand in Steve’s hair and scratches at the scalp. Has Steve going lax and sighing so easy, melting in his hands, and he would be embarrassed but he  _ has  _ just woken up. And Billy is always so warm.

Billy just hums, eyes dipping down to his throat. “Jesus, looks like you got mauled. Sorry.”

“I have literally no issues with that, okay?” Steve looks down at him. “I liked it. Like, a lot.”

“Could tell,” Billy says, a little unsure, still stroking through Steve’s hair. “I just- I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be like this with someone. I haven’t in, like, nearly a decade.”

“I’ll tell you if it's too much, if you get too much,” Steve says, “I promise. But I’m all for it, yeah? I really like being around you. It's. You make me feel incredible.”

Billy’s smile is twisted up, the wrong kind, lips pressed together. His eyes are a little glazed, haunting and so blue. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers, takes Billy’s face in his palms and presses their lips together.

He kisses Billy slow, so slow. Billy leans into it immediately as Steve strokes down his arms, his grip in Steve’s hair falling slack. Billy kisses back in earnest but it's leading nowhere but into another kiss, and it's like something clicks. Something new, different. 

When he pulls back, Billy’s eyes are shut. Wet lashes fan across his cheeks, mouth open and following after his.

“It's alright, Billy,” He promises, gripping his hand, “You’re just gonna have to try extra hard to get rid of me.”

“Not happening,” Billy’s laugh is wet, gentle when he says, “Kiss me again? Please?”

Steve’s more than happy to comply, moves to meet a mouth that’s already open and willing and sighing into his.

* * *

It's when they’re dressed again, Steve in Billy’s sweater from the trunk and Billy with his denim jacket buttoned to his chin because Steve’s blood is dotted on his shirt, that it happens.

They’re finally on the way to find Hopper, rain replaced by sunlight that reflects in their faces, when Billy swerves to a stop.

His brows furrow, nostrils flaring as his head snaps to the side. To the treeline.

Steve’s veins run cold, already knowing the answer to the question on his tongue, “What is it?”

“I can smell it,” Billy swallows, jaw set. “It's fucking- it's  _ covered  _ in blood. Human, nonhuman, it's own. It's- Stay in the car, Steve.”

“The station’s, like, two blocks ahead,” Steve supplies on autopilot, fear settling deep and familiar in his body. This is the part he remembers. Feels that fear settle deep in his bones, travel up his veins and make him tremble with adrenaline seeping to the surface. He taps into that primal feeling to run and suddenly, desperately hopes the kids don’t see the bat and get the right idea.

“You think I’m gonna let that thing live?” Billy’s canines are as sharp as the venom he spits. He snarls like a predator and repeats, “Stay in the car.”

Steve figures this is his core. That feral need to protect, to fight. Knows it's all Billy. After all this time he’s learnt the Upside Down has a way of exposing people’s true selves, all pretenses ground down to dust. Steve has never felt safer when Billy’s hand grips hard enough that he knows it’ll ache.

He hears Billy’s teeth grind together.

“I’m gonna fucking kill it.”

“No,” Steve says, swallows, grips his hand so tight that it hurts and knows it won’t do anything. “I won’t let you. You can’t- you’re gonna get yourself killed. This isn’t fucking like anything you’ve- Billy.  _ Please-  _ ”

Billy swipes his thumb over his knuckles, eyes wide and red, so,  _ so  _ dark and he’s gone. Out of the car and into the woods before Steve can react.

So Steve’s clambering out in this sweater than has a hole in the collar and scratches at his skin and he’s trying not to fucking cry. Swallowing down the heart in his throat and stumbling toward the trunk, careful not to slip because it's November and there’s black ice underfoot. Not that that fucking  _ matters  _ when the world has been spun on it's head and monsters are back again and Billy’s given chase.

He tugs and tugs and gets nowhere with the trunk. The engine’s still running.

He looks to the woods while he tries again, curls his fingers into the rubber that refuses to budge. There’s an expanse of nothing, this far to the edge of Hawkins. More trees than there are heads, in this town, that offer him nothing but silence. Wind and rain that whips his hair around his face.

He throws his hand down on the hood, cold metal biting into his palm as he hisses.

He feels exposed, like he’s being watched out here in the open, stalked. He gives one last tug, heart pounding loud and pressing against his ribs. Ready to burst, split against them.

His hands itch for the bat he knows is miles away and he lets out a sob of frustration, curling his fingers on the hatch so hard that the tips turn white.

The trunk pops open.

There’s nothing but a toolbox, spare wrench and a blanket.

He takes the wrench and heads into the treeline.

Walks with slow, careful footsteps. Every branch, leaf rotted to the ground, forms a sick kind of minefield. They promise no immediate explosion but the imminent signal of death.

He thinks of Barb when he passes the first tree with rotten goop splattered across it, feels chlorine fill his lungs when he catches the blood trailing down the very next tree. There’s clothing caught on the bark. 

There’s a clearing soon enough that shouldn’t exist. Created by a pile of split trees that are hollow and rotten in the middle. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened to them. 

He feels surrounded but there’s nothing but empty space, shadows that do nothing but stare back at him. It's silent, his heart pounding in his ears, when he spots a patch of denim.

He kneels to get a closer look, pulls it off of the branch with shaky fingertips that won’t grip. Doesn’t fucking matter anyway; it's the fur-lined collar of Billy’s jacket.

He kind of doesn’t realise he’s started heaving in breaths until he’s coughing, choking on freezing cold air that tastes like death. Has the material squeezed between his fingers and palm so tight that his nails dig into the skin and he’s trying not to  _ cry _ . His lip wobbles anyway, throat tight and he feels so fucking stupid and scared and tired-

He pulls himself back up, denim in hand and stumbles onward. Follows the destruction, the smell of two beings that shouldn’t exist. Rely on the promise of blood, of something wrong. Monsters, figuratively, but so fucking different to the other. Billy wants to protect, no matter how fucking stupidly he goes about it. The demogorgon knows nothing other than destruction.

And yet he’s chasing after the both of them. With his nimble fucking hands that ache and his heaving chest and his scarred hip that pulses where it hasn’t healed right.

There’s more blood but it's  _ black _ . Like something that’s stained the fabric of the forest floor except it's fresh when he slips on it. He can’t breathe.

He can’t think about what this means and continues, can’t help but feel like he’s going in circles even though the clearing was a good ten minutes behind him. 

There’s a rustle of leaves and a thump and he’s stockstill. Clutching at bark that breaks apart in his fingers like sand. He wonders when exactly he lost the wrench, which is an odd thought to have when you’re about to die, but it's whatever. It wouldn’t have done shit anyway.

There’s footsteps but he doesn’t trust it. Can’t.

“ _ Steve _ ,” His name is all but hissed in the expanse of silence. Loud, too loud, but human. Or as human as he can be.

Billy’s there in the clearing, covered in that same black blood. Has his own mixed in with it, red and bright and staining into his jacket. He’s hunched over, heaving in breaths that don’t sound human. A mismatch of blood and goop drown him, a cut across his cheek dark and leaking past his collar.

As he steps closer, Billy throws a hand up, shaky and vined in black veins. His face is the same when he looks up to Steve, hair in his eyes. Even so, Steve can see how black has swallowed up the whites of them. It's terrifying; the veins of his face all pull toward his eyes, dark and nonhuman and angry.

“Billy,” He says, dumb, rushes forward and into his space. Gets a hand on his shoulder, just to check he’s actually there and he hasn’t fucking died already, pushes his hair from his face. 

Billy’s shaking, with what, Steve doesn’t know. And he should run. He really should. The guy could kill him, looks more than capable of it right now. 

“Billy,” He tries again, softer, heart climbing his throat. 

Billy’s eyes flit from his eyes to his mouth and he’s gripping Steve. Pressing him into the tree that gives a crack under pressure.

“You can’t be- near me,” He gets out, rough and biting and pained. It makes Steve’s eyes prick.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Billy,” Steve breathes out, easy as the carbon that releases with it, and pulls Billy’s hand off of his shoulder and pressing it to his chest. He’s not sure why. He’s a fucking idiot, probably, but he has to help. Comfort him. “Feel that? It's still going. ‘Cause of you.”

“Don’t,” Billy’s eyes squeeze shut and his fingers curl in Steve’s shirt, clutch the material right there above his heart. Steve chooses to imagine that warmth is seeping through and calming it. That maybe the rhythm of it calms Billy right back. Or sends him into some other kind of frenzy and they’ll both end up adding to the blood count in these woods.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, brings his hand to Billy’s face and palms his cheek. Thumbs over blackened veins that pump weak below the surface. 

Billy gets a hand at the base of his skull and slumps into him, hides his face in his shoulder. “It killed- there’s a body. Just back there.”

“Shit,” Steve gets out, stroking through Billy’s hair, rubbing at the knobs of his spine. 

He lets himself pull Billy closer, covers himself in him. Bites back a sob because monsters are real and he’s so fucking tired. He’s terrified, here in these woods, this  _ town _ , and they’re both trembling together. There’s something kinda funny about that, a fucking vampire shaking in his arms like he’s not frail as a twig. Billy could probably break his back if he held him hard enough.

“I tried- I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I never do. I just remembered that bite on your hip and I saw-”

“Red?” Steve gives an empty laugh and he feels Billy’s lips twitch. Steve now has monster goop on his jaw. “I fucking thought you were a  _ goner _ , Billy. I thought-”

“Steve,” Billy pulls back and his eyes are normal and so, so blue again. Full of moisture that overspills when he blinks long lashes up at him.

“The next time,” Steve’s throat constricts, “The next time, you tell me and we go together. We wait for Hopper and El and Nance and then we act. Okay? Because I can’t- you could’ve died.”

“I know,” Billy’s canines are still so long, to a point, when he bites into his bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

Steve sighs, thumbing his lip free and pressing a kiss to the corner. “Don’t be. You’re fucking  _ stupid _ , but you’re so good. You’re so good, Billy.”

Billy blinks. Blinks again. Their chests heave together, breathe in air that tastes of death. 

Steve can’t stop staring at the blood that collects at the bridge of his brow and there’s hot fucking shitty tears falling. His voice cracks, “You need a new jacket.”

Billy’s expression is unreadable. He catches Steve’s wrist and curls his fingers around it. Massages his thumb into the flesh. “We should get to your sheriff. Let him know what’s going on.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, doesn’t move a muscle.

Billy’s face falls in his shoulder again, lips so gentle over the bite wounds he left there and Steve lets his eyes slip shut.

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments help me write quicker xo


End file.
